My Runaway Train Over the Rainbow
Certain scents hold sway over me. The smell of cinnamon, for example, propels me back in time to where I hover just outside my childhood home’s kitchen in wait of my mom’s proclamation that her heavenly cinnamon rolls are ready to eat.
It’s not only scents that have this power over me. Certain songs, too, yank me straight out of now, depositing me firmly—as long as their strains whisper their magic in my ears—in times and places that would, without music, be strictly memory.
1. “Over the Rainbow” by Brother Israel
I walk up to my mom’s house and see that she’s out working in her yard. I greet her, give her a hug and tell her I have to “powder my nose,” but that I’ll be right back.
When I step back outside, my mom is smiling while explaining to a passing stranger, “My daughters introduced it to me. Isn’t it so hopeful? When I listen to it, I feel like anything is possible.” I stop and savor the moment from the porch, unwitting to the fact that a song already much beloved by me will someday be one of two roads that lead me to a place where I again stand in my mom’s presence.
2. “Mad World” by Gary Jules
I hop off the bus on which I have pretended to study law all the way between UCLA and Hollywood. I do the same as I wait for the music to begin. Once it does, I sit through song after song, hopeful that one of the songs Gary sings will be “Mad World.” When I hear the song’s first notes, I suppress the urge to exclaim my delight. In the candlelit darkness of The Hotel Café, I close my eyes and am lost to the haunting melancholy of that song. If I am very lucky, I do so with the knowledge Mack will be driving me home soon after I reopen my eyes.
3. “Bitter Honey” by Eric Kufs
I tell Eric I’m sad I missed his last show, but that my youngest sister wouldn’t have been too understanding if I went to a concert instead of her wedding. Eric hands me a CD of the show and tells me it’s not the same as having been there, but that this way I won’t have missed it completely. He then asks with endearing awkwardness, “Is that weird?” I reassure him it is a lovely gesture, not weird.
My Grampa G tree
A handful of days later, I think of this exchange after I pack my dog into my car and begin a sixteen-hour drive that will, if I am lucky, lead me to say a final goodbye to my “Grampa G” while he is still alive. I put Eric’s CD in my car’s player and skip straight to “Bitter Honey,” which is my bittersweet company through that day’s drive.
I stop for a few hours of sleep in Williams, California. I walk my dog for a few minutes before we return to the car. As the sun rises on that walk, I take this picture. Minutes later, I continue my flight northward. I pray I will be in time to hug a man who took many years to accept hugs, and more years still to welcome them.
I drive southward a few days later, weeping as I try to understand how Grampa G can no longer have a physical home on earth. I listen to “Bitter Honey” and understand that in a song and a picture, I will always be able to find my way back to the blessed moments where I clasped one of Grampa G’s hands between my own as I thanked him for waiting for me.
4. “Runaway Train” by Soul Asylum
My family and I are attending a church conference in Montana. I am so captivated by this song that I stake out the TV room on my dorm floor in a state of constant anticipation for its next play. I scowl a wordless threat at anyone who so much as looks in the direction of either the remote or the TV’s control panel. I issue politely couched threats to anyone who tries doing more than just look at them. In doing these things, I retain dominance of the room save when I am forced out by pesky community-building gatherings.
5. “To Go Beyond II” by Enya
I am sixteen years old. I have moved out of my mom’s house, again. I have just enough money to pay rent for a bedroom out in the boonies, but not enough money to buy myself a bed. As I lie on the floor trying to sleep, I am as terrified as I am exhilarated until To Go Beyond II starts playing. I hear it and know the thrill of being, for its duration, carried straight to heaven.
Sixteen years later, I continue to believe for so long as the song plays not only that there is heaven, but that my mom dances there eternally. For a few minutes at a time, I am able to bask in the light of her peace, a kind I understand she could never have found on earth.
What songs move you, and to where?
(c) 2011 Deborah Bryan. All rights reserved.
I was just having a similar convo with my husband. He is tortured while in the car having to listen to pop songs that the kids love. He asked me why (knowing I’m more into classic rock) I put the hits station on (we have satellite radio) when I’m driving them around. I told him how when I hear certain songs from the 70′s I imagine being in the back of our Chevrolet station wagon with my sister driving me around as she popped her gum. I want my kids to associate the music of this time with their childhoods. The only bad thing is that my daughter now runs around singing about things like skinny dipping and menage a trois, thanks to Katy Perry!
I love that you’re making a conscious effort toward ensuring your kids have these memories! One of the songs that didn’t land on this list is Paul Simon’s “The Boxer.” That song will always carry me back to being in one of my mom’s cars (no car ever lasted too long!) and shouting along with the chorus long before I could sing along to the sort of chorus that has words. My brother thinks the song is depressing. Parts of it certainly are, but to me it now represents both (1) the power of a fighting spirit and (2) all the times I sang along to it in the car with my mom, who couldn’t not smile as she led me and my siblings in song.
As for Friday? This made me laugh in conjunction with memory of my FB status yesterday morning:
Oh, 97.1. I know how to use YouTube. If I wanted to hear “Friday,” I would use this knowledge.
Mostly any music from the 90s transports me back to when my children were little. Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Everclear, Pearl Jam, Bush, Green Day, Sublime, all of their songs bring back so many memories. I also have a soft spot for The Spice Girls, The Backstreet Boys, and In-sync–my daughters used to make up silly dance routines to their songs.
ps–I love “Mad World”–haunting is the best word to describe it.
‘N Sync was one of Amelia’s favorites! I don’t often look at the journal we shared a decade ago, but when I do, I giggle at all the sparkle-pen tributes to “JT.” For this reason, ‘N Sync has a soft spot in my heart, too.
I have a hard time describing other songs as “haunting,” having heard Mad World! It now epitomizes the word for me.
I had to laugh at myself for not remembering how to spell ‘N Sync, especially since my youngest tried to wear her ‘N Sync t-shirt nearly everyday!!! (At least I didn’t write In-Sink!!) Ol’ JT still is pretty cute.
I am always amazed when a scent or sound takes me back to a place – so vividly. Music is powerful. Your reflections were poignant, Deb. And now, now I sit here listening to the memory stirring songs in my collection. Nice.
Thank you!
I love that these things exist to take us back! Without these keys, I think I’d feel more saddened by how quickly Li’l D’s childhood is flying by. The days themselves will soon be gone, but I’ll be granted access to how I felt in them by these songs and scents! I’m so thankful for that, and for your comment. ♥
I’ll always smile when I hear a Spice Girls song, transports me back to being a teenager!
I was very briefly a Tri-Delt when I was in college. For some reason, even the thought of the Spice Girls takes me right back there–?! Since I specifically remember sitting on the TV room sofa, I imagine I must’ve watched some music videos there with my “sisters.”
I love Runaway Train by Soul Asylum. That’s actually the first music video I ever saw. We didn’t have cable, so I saw it at a friend’s house.
My mom didn’t like having a TV in the house, so almost all my TV watching was at my best friend’s house until she moved away in high school. I loved watching music videos at her place, when my Nintendo Thumb got too sore from Tetris and needed a break.
I feel like I’ve won the lottery when Runaway Train comes on the radio these days. It’s not often, but I suppose that’s part of the “jackpot!” feeling.
Great post, Deb! Anything from the early 90s. Chili Peppers, Nirvana (I recently gushed too much about Nirvana on Byron’s blog, poor guy…) “Black” by Pearl Jam–takes me right back. Any Sting tune. Sting is one of my favorite artists.
Oh and the Beatles! Oh lord, I had a crush on John Lennon. “Imagine”. Just gorgeous and gives me chills every time I hear it.
Now if only I could find the time to listen to all of my music. Seems most days I’m listening to iCarly.
The only Japanese CDs I brought back with me with Beatles CDs! I remember perusing hundreds of DVDs at a busy-ish train station in Japan. I left with about a half-dozen CDs, but only the 2-disc Beatles set came home with me. I don’t listen to it often anymore, but I’m always aware of it just within reach if the mood descends!
Under the Bridge by the Chili Peppers always makes me think of freshman year in my high school cafeteria. We had a jukebox in there, for a time; my contingency was always playing “Under the Bridge,” and warring with those who wanted to challenge our jukebox dominance, which was truly only jukebox dominance.
Your iCarly comment makes me giggle and think of your vacuum post. Think I’ll be exempt with a little boy? 0:)
I freaking love this post – and it’s so true.
Por Una Cabeza, whenever I hear it, puts me into a trance, a smile on my face (and urges waking in other parts of my body)
Our internet connection at home is not great, so I’m waiting for YouTube to load. Aaand, of course, this has just loaded, so that I’m listening to Por Una Cabeza, which sounds familiar to me but which has clear connections for Ba.D. He’s saying (after “It’s a tango!”) that, for a Buffy connection, this is from True Lies, which was Eliza Dushku’s first film. “It’s the tango that they dance to at the beginning and the end of the move.”
See? There’s a reason I keep him around!
Actually, listening to this makes me think what a magnificent ballroom dancer my mom was. I bet this song got her excited, when she was at the height of her dancing days!
Another wonderful post idea (I love the way you set things up – it always make it even more of a pleasant read)! I love “Runaway Train”, too. Gin Blossoms songs always take me back to about 9-10 years old, being in the car with my big sister and her ADORABLE boyfriend who would sing along to “Hey Jealousy.” He had the most beautiful voice. I think of that every time I hear the song!
Aaaaah! Even reading the title “Hey Jealousy” makes me so happy! I don’t have any specific memory of the song, but in the rare occasions it comes on the radio, I feel so invigorated. I guess it just used to make me happy in the past, when I needed it. Now it’s going to make me even happier, envisioning what you’ve described.
I’m too ignorant to comment on the music but I love the picture of your Grandpa G tree. I have a thing for trees.
When I was in Japan, one of the recurring questions was, “What’s Deborah-sensei’s favorite color?” Every single one of my students always knew the answer: green. The best I can figure, it’s a result of growing up in Eugene, where there were always so, so very many trees around!
Or, more directly: I totally share that thing.
it’s so true that music and scents evoke memories. Music is a time machine, (link to an old post of mine that blathers on about that topic: http://wp.me/p18cBy-3m.)
I love your selections, especially “Over The Rainbow” – thanks for sharing these poignant memories.
Thank you for your words on this post. ♥ I read your post, which I’d say involved about 0% blathering! I love the song that evoked the memories and inspired the post. I don’t think I own a copy of it, but when it comes on the stereo (usually when I’m in the grocery store), it’s like I’m walking around the streets of Eugene singing that song to myself all over again. To resist smiling? Impossible!
I have a very long list, and it’s probably impossible to narrow it down to a few. I am deeply affected by music and it have so many memories tied to so many songs…
I can say that ‘Mad World’ by Gary Jules is on my list somewhere. It doesn’t really hold a memory, so much as a feeling or a whole bunch of them, really.
One song that comes to me is ‘Grey’ by Ani Difranco. It was my theme song for many years.
I’ll have to get back to you on this one…
I’ve never heard this song before now. (I’m listening to it on YouTube.) It reminds me of two songs simultaneously, not because of its sound so much as because of the feelings it evokes. “1000 Oceans” by Tori Amos (whose music I otherwise know little about) and “I Take You with Me” by Melissa Etheridge. (I love both those songs, but the latter especially because of its use in Boys on the Side.)
I’d love to hear more of your songs!
I should be too embarassed to admit this, but I threw my last shreds of machismo to the wind decades ago.
Michael Bolton’s “How Am I Supposed To Live Without You”. I was madly in love with my wife-to-be, had just moved her up from Dallas (where we met) to her folks in South Bend for courting and house-buying purposes. I knew I had to work the next few weekends, so it was going to be almost a month before I’d see her again. I was driving back from her folks’ house, coming around the bottom of Lake Michigan, when that song came on the radio. There I was, singing along at the top of my lungs, tears streaming down my face. It still gets to me today.
Others: Dire Straits’ “Brothers In Arms” reminds me of all the soldiers out there, all around the world, defending our freedoms, taught to me by my father (WW2 and Korea vet) from when I could first read. The first book I remember was a history of WW2 by Robert Leckie. (Yeah, I know, that explains quite a bit.)
And a silly little tune, accompanying a horrendously animated black-and-white cartoon called “Hardrock, Coco, and Joe”. When WGN in Chicago played that on Garfied Goose and Friends, you knew Christmas was right around the corner.
Um.. Dad didn’t teach me the song – it wouldn’t be written for over 20 more years. He taught me the love and respect of our soldiers. (Whoever said I was eloquent with the written word?)
Hahahaha @ that opener! I’m not usually a fan of Michael Bolton, but I think I’m bound to have a soft spot for this song when I hear it in the future. I’m so grateful for you sharing that sweet memory.
I’m listening to “Brothers in Arms” right now. I don’t think I’ve heard much/any Dire Straits, a fact I’m going to have to remedy in the very near future. I’m thinking sometime like, oh, this three-day weekend!
Your words, not the song itself, make me wonder–do you know/like Don McLean’s “The Grave”? So beautiful, and so very consistent in making me cry.
Terribly long list, too many to name, really. But the song that immediately pops into view is Radiohead’s The Morning Bell. It helped me during a rough time in my depression, and I’m forever grateful for its existence.
I’m listening to it now. I don’t think I’ve heard much Radiohead (apart from “Karma Police” and one more that’s evading me at the moment), but I definitely hear how it could be and was a help. Hurrah for that! ♥
The smell of a pipe transports me back to my grandparents house and all the comorts of being surrounded by people who love you…it’s like a big warm hug.
Beautiful post, Deb.
Thank you. I love how you’ve described this, and how perfectly it sums up that feeling.
I have been listening to a lot of Ron Hines lately only because I’m homesick for the Maritimes
I feel like home when I listen to his voice and lyrics!
I’m listening to Sonny’s Dream right now. I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard him before, but I feel as if I have; this is exactly what I loved listening to through my childhood/preteens! Thank you for sharing this.
My age is showing here for sure, but I have always loved Crosby, Stills & Nash’s “Guenivere.”
In the first stanza, David croons:
“Guinnevere had green eyes
Like yours, lady like yours
She’d walk down
Through the garden
In the morning after it rained
Peacocks wandered aimlessly
Underneath an orange tree.
Why can’t she see me?”
I feel such longing in the lyrics. And it brings me back to a place and a time when I was young and so in love. I have green eyes, and I wanted someone to want me like that.
Give it a listen, if you don’t know it.
I didn’t know it before now! I know I heard some Crosby, Stills & Nash (and the non-TV CSNY variant, heh) via my older boyfriend in college, and I know I loved some of their songs, but none of the singles listed on Wikipedia struck me as familiar. I believe this is my first time hearing “Guinnevere,” and I can definitely hear the longing. I love hearing this and imagining a younger you being moved as you’ve described. Such a sweet image, and reminiscent of moments in this (albeit brown-eyed) girl’s youth.
The first two on your list are among my favorites, too.
“Endlessly” by Brook Benton is one that transports me back to two different times. The first was when I was around ages six and seven, and my Mom would occasionally create a delicious backdrop for her chores by pulling out her record player (a lovely all-in-one from the fifties, still hidden in this house somewhere. I wish I could find it.) She delighted my younger brother and me whenever she played 45s all afternoon.
Much later in life, I included this song on the gift cds my ex and I gave out at our wedding. Though the song is bittersweet for me now, I’m amazed that I’m still thrilled when I listen to it. I’m sure that’s partly due to the evocative nature of Mr. Benton’s deep, silky smooth voice.
Thank you so much for sharing both the song and your history with it. I’ve never heard it before, but as I listen to it I’m so uplifted. I understand how it could still thrill you, despite some of the memories it evokes. As I listen, I wish I knew how to dance, because this makes me feel like I could pretend I’m living in a musical and just go with it.
Isn’t it amazing how powerful music can be. It’s always such a shock when a song takes me out of the present and into the past, but I’m so grateful for some of the memories I fear I would have lost if not for music.
I love how you’ve summed this up. There are so many memories that hide from me, coming to the fore only when a certain song is played. Through the music, I’m afforded a chance to remember not just the things from my past, but the feelings, too.
Sometimes the moments are sad, but even those ones tend to be sad because they’re correlated with happy times I was blessed to have.
Awesome and fantastic job on the song selections… I love to find out what my buddies enjoy… Music is such a great equalizer too. TY!
What are some of your favorites? I know you enjoy Sade, obviously.
Wonderful post. Songs also remind me of good old beautiful memories. It’s like stepping back in time and and having to relive them. Everytime this happens, I find myself smiling, so is my heart. I love, ” over the Rainbow,” too. Brings back sweet childhood nostalgia.
It’s true, isn’t it? The smile stretches in these moments between heart and lips. Actually, even thinking of it like this is having the same effect on me right now.
I am a music junkee. Have always been. I wish I had the clear memories of my childhood that you do. Certain songs send a wave of emotion over me, but it’s difficult to pinpoint the source. But here’s something… When I hear Supertramp or Rush or Van Morrison I am immediately connected to my eldest brother. Elton John brings images of middle brother playing piano. And as I think back, here come more memories… Woman and Starting Over (John Lennon) remind me of sitting in the back of the family car with my ear glued to the speaker. Dad kept the music on pretty low. I remember asking him to turn up a certain song, which he would, but then as soon as the song ended the volume would down to barely audible levels. I got very good at recognizing the beginning of favourite songs when others could barely hear them. Huh – the more I think about this, the more it occurs to me that maybe this is where my freakishly strong Name That Tune skills came from. That was fun, Deb!
I love this comment so much! For the moments in which you typed these memories, I was granted access to a little piece of your history, which is a marvelous thing. I don’t suppose you have any interest in someday writing an entry about your history with music? After reading this, I can tell you I’d have been happy to read 100 pages, had they been written!
Also, I will never try to best you at Name That Tune, based on the above.
Actually, I did make a mental note to possibly write a post about it. You have definitely inspired me!
I love these “personal share” posts. They rock and they bridge the gap between bloggers. Great work, Deborah!
To me, words are the intrinsic pieces of the bridges we build between people. (I pretty much picture them exactly as such.) Through words, it’s like we’re given and giving pathways directly into the hearts and minds of people whose perspectives allow us a fuller view of the world than we could have had just through our own. Thank you.
“Mad World” by Gary Jules – I love this version much more than the original, I must say. It was in Donnie Darko, and I absolutely love it.
Isn’t it incredible the way songs can evoke certain memories so incredibly strongly that you feel transported in time, almost expecting to see the person you’re reminded of or the scenery you think should be around you? I love music anyway, but its power to hold memories makes me love it even more.
I heard the original several months after I’d heard Gary’s version for the first time. I couldn’t believe something so beautiful had come from . . . well, that! (I wonder if I might have viewed the song more favorable if I’d heard it first.)
This power of music’s is amazing. In fact, a trip to IHOP on Sunday morning almost prompted a follow-up post. The first song they played was “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman, which recalled so many days listening to music with my mom in our living and dining rooms. After that, it was song after song that evoked those bygone days. Thanks to music, the morning was a win long before we ever reached the “sandbox”!
Fantastic post. I guess the song that resonates the most with me is Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own by U2, a song that will forever be bound up with me working through my feelings following the death of my father. It’s a song I both love and hate listening to.
Thank you! I don’t remember that song by title, but I’m sure I’ve heard it. (I will be listening to it shortly!)
It’s a song I both love and hate listening to.
This is a feeling I understand so well.
Love this post. Music is one of those things that can really tie a feeling to a time and place. For me, I would say “Door Into Summer” by the Monkees. It just reminds me of the more lazier days of summer after college, during the earliest days of my marriage. Good times, simpler times.
Even seeing the band name “the Monkees” reminds me of my thrill every time the show’s theme song started. I don’t even remember why I loved that show so much, but love it I did! “Daydream Believer” remains a favorite to this day, and is one of the songs my just-younger sister and I used to sing while walking around town together. I found such a video recently, but didn’t bother asking my sister if she minded my posting it here. I already knew the answer, and heck! I’m glad she let me take it in the first place.
What you describe about “Door Into Summer” sums up how I feel about Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s fourth season. I know many people view it unfavorably, but for me, it’ll always sum up the freedom I felt knowing I was free to fumble along and find my own way, my way, even though I knew it would (and did) involve its own trials.
I feel the same way about music – great post! My husband and I both have so many memories associated with specific songs and talk about it quite often. I’ll have to think about some specific examples now that your post has me thinking…
Thank you! Did you think of any songs? I’d love to hear some of your examples, if any have come to you since you commented!
I grew up in the 90′s and was a grunge kid to the core. Pearl Jam’s song Black was the song that helped me through everything in my young life. After I was raped I listened to Black by Pearl Jam, Losing My Religion by REM, Everybody Hurts by REM, Creep by Radiohead, and many many more songs. You mentioned Soul Asylum – Runaway Train….I got to see them earlier this summer and they did that song and it was so amazing. Dave is awesome.
Back on track….focus girl…Ok…so Pearl Jam has seemed to follow me througout my life. In May 2010 my boyfriend took me to the Pearl Jam concert and that weekend (mother’s day weekend) he proposed to me. We were married in November and our first dance as a married couple was “Just Breathe” by Pearl Jam from the BackSpacer album.
Other bands that have been big influences over my emotions have been Evanescence and HIM and The Rasmus. If you have not heard any of these, you should check them out. HIM and The Rasmus are from Finland and their music is just so very moving and beautiful, if dark.
Anna Nalick, Sarah McLachlan and Jewel also have been there for me. In particular, Jewel speaks of love and desire, Anna speaks of getting past the pain and “Someday I’ll be so damn beautiful” and Sarah is all the passion, desire, self loathing, forbidden love, loss and rediscovery that an angsty teenager from the 90′s could ever want.
Sorry for the rambling. There are many others and I am thoroughly a music lover but I will take up no more space in your blog. Great post. I will hve to do something similar I think.
Love and Light,
Lucky Star
http://www.victimnomore.wordpress.com
https://whereismyreallife.wordpress.com/2011/09/03/the-closet-monster-made-me-do-it/ Wanted to share
Lucky
No need to apologize for “rambling”! I tend to leave (and enjoy reading) some very long comments, and I love it even when they do ramble away from the topic at hand. Which yours did not.
I enjoyed reading your post and look forward to reading more!
I remember in college discovering the Grateful Dead. Aside from feeling a sense of acceptance and intense happiness, I also stopped going to hair dressers. And now its been six years since I’ve been in one. And I discovered tye dye t shirts. And a perplexing obession with skeletons. Despite all the other music I listen to, they are still my number one band, without fail.
Then theres that music that doesn’t take you any place in particular but just has you drifting through space. I think I like that the best. Lately its Explosions in the sky.
I remember watching the Grateful Dead at the Oregon Country Fair as a girl, but I don’t remember what they sounded like. There was definitely a freedom in it!
Perhaps I should give them a listen again, now I’m much older and have much different tastes than the oldies to which I used to devote all my musical attention . . .
Thank you for commenting!
I love the way you describe your journeys through memories.
The first that comes to mind for me is Janis Joplin’s “Summertime”. I remember being sixteen years old, hanging out at a party I’d sneaked out of the house to attend. My friends and I sat in a dark bedroom, nearly piled on top of each other in the confined quarters. The air in the room was thick with incense, and the only glow was from a black light below a crooked Jimi Hendrix poster. I felt warm and cozy from something I was too young to be drinking. I heard these words, and imagined myself floating through the air…
One of these mornings
You’re gonna rise, rise up singing,
You’re gonna spread your wings, child,
And take, take to the sky,
Lord, the sky.
I have to close my eyes when I hear that guitar. Takes me away.